


Fragrant

by h0ldthiscat



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h0ldthiscat/pseuds/h0ldthiscat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she turns around Mulder has uncapped the bottle of body wash and is holding it under his nose, a peculiar look in his eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragrant

“Scully,” she chirps, cradling her phone between her shoulder and ear as she tries to place her items on the belt.

“Scully, it’s me. Just wanted to give you a heads up that I’m at your place.”

“Okay,” she says slowly, “do I want to ask why?”

“It’s a long story, the short version of which is that my air conditioning is broken and the guy can’t come until tomorrow.”

“Of course he can’t.” She points at her phone and gives the cashier and apologetic glance.

“Do you mind?”

She sighs. “No, Mulder, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you. Hey, are you at the grocery store? Will you pick me up--”

“No.” She hangs up on him curtly but knows he won’t mind. 

When she arrives at her apartment twenty-five minutes later, he is standing directly in front of her living room window AC unit, the sweaty sides of his gray cutoff t-shirt flapping around him. 

“Easy there, Sister Bertrille,” she jokes, elbowing her way through the door with her brown paper shopping bag. He turns around and she can see that the front of his shirt is soaked in sweat. “Your car still works, doesn’t it? You didn’t walk here?”

“I happen to perspire quite a lot when the humidity is at 94%,” he says, not without a hint of defensiveness. She tries not to notice his biceps bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“So your AC broke, huh?” she asks, putting away the few groceries she’d gotten: a few tomatoes, a four-pack of yogurt, some body wash. 

“Dreamy Garden?” he asks, reading the label over her shoulder. 

She feels the odd need to defend her body care but comes up short, admitting, “The names they come up with for these things are so stupid.”

He turns the tall, slender bottle over and reads on. “An intoxicating blend of gardenia petals and magnolia blossom with low notes of dark vanilla, guaranteed to make you feel like you’re spending a summer evening on a luxurious patio.”

“Are you finished?” she puts her hand on her hip. 

“All that really makes you buy this stuff?”

“Well no, I buy it because I like the way it smells,” she huffs, and folds the grocery bag into thirds, then slides it between her fridge and the cabinet with a few others. 

When she turns around Mulder has uncapped the bottle of body wash and is holding it under his nose, a peculiar look in his eyes. Something tells her he likes what he smells, and she admits her gaze lingers longer on him than it should, something hot in her chest expanding with delight that he loves the way she smells. 

“Do I need to leave you two alone for a moment, Mulder?”

His eyes meet hers for the briefest of seconds over the bottle, and then he caps it quickly and hands it back to her. “No,” he says hurriedly. “I’m good.”


End file.
